


Premature Realizations

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Age Difference, Coming In Pants, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Sparring, They literally talk more in this than any other fic, What a dumb title, wow a mature conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: "Art…" John says weakly, "Can you let me go?"Arthur studies him for a moment.Recalling, the last time they were in a situation like this, almost a year ago at this point.He glances down between them and John's cheeks flare with warmth."You want me to?" Arthur asks, lowly.Curiously.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 173





	Premature Realizations

**Author's Note:**

> Explanation of that dubious consent tag:
> 
> Miscommunication/Arthur being a dumbass leads to john getting off against the older man while they’re tussling, it’s pretty firm dub con, but only because of the circumstances, it’s meant to feel very fast and helpless
> 
> They don’t resolve that until they’re in another sexual situation, where Arthur apologizes and they talk about it more after.

It's just their regular. 

Emotions boiling up and over, frustrations towards each other and the world taken care of in a relatively safe way. 

They forget and forgive each other so quickly that even the dirty hits are quickly moved on from. 

John started this one, sick of Arthur picking on him, Dutch pulling him from jobs, Hosea's well-intentioned pity. 

He slams all his weight into Arthur's middle, knocking the older man off guard, off his feet. 

They hit the ground hard and continue their tussle, familiarity breeding a drawn out game of knowing exactly what the other is planning on doing next. 

Then it's not regular, anymore, and John feels himself hardening. 

He struggles to get the upper hand, wanting to end this and get away from Arthur before he's caught out. 

John manages to get on top but Arthur's got their legs all twisted together and he cant get up. 

"Give up," John growls and squirms. 

Then gasps, involuntarily, as Arthur's thigh pulls him down harder. 

The older man tenses below him and John can barely breath, his cock pressed hard to the inside of Arthur's thigh. 

"Lemme up," John whispers, but Arthur just watches him blankly. 

John squirms again to try and break the hold and bites back a whine as his cock grinds against Arthur. 

"Arthur, c'mon," John begs quietly, "I-I…"

"Shit," John whispers and curls up slightly, his fingers digging into the grass and gripping hard enough to uproot a few clumps. 

His hips jerk, against his will, and he closes his eyes tightly, cringing away from the older man. 

"A-Art," John begs and grits his teeth as he grinds and grinds and feels his face burning. 

Eyes joining in the sensation soon after, tears flooding his lashes. 

He feels Arthur's legs loosen but he's so close. 

"I can't- Fuck, Arthur," John whimpers.

John gasps and then sobs, his hips jerking roughly, come spilling into his drawers. 

He trembles, holding himself up over Arthur, sniffling as tears streak down his face and darken the older man's shirt in splotches.

"Holy shit," Arthur whispers, "You… You-"

"I'm sorry," John says quickly, hoarsely, wetly, sniffs hard and digs his fingers further into the sun-warmed dirt, "I didn't mean to."

"I…" Arthur stares up at him with wide-eyes and John tries to pull away.

Feels Arthur, hard against his hip. 

Arthur quickly untangles them, sits up and scoots back.

John sits back on his heels and roughly swipes at his eyes. 

"Why didn't you let me up?" John asks roughly. 

"Thought you were fakin'... Or somethin'," Arthur whispers. 

John lets out a weak sound of disbelief and covers his face, curling in on himself. 

"John… It's-" Arthur takes a deep breath in, noisy and shaky, "It's alright."

John hums in acknowledgment of the reassurance but it doesn't penetrate. 

"Seriously," Arthur says after a moment of silence, shuffling closer, "Hey, it's fine, John. I ain't mad."

John rubs roughly at his eyes again and looks up at Arthur kneeling in front of him.

Arthur slowly gets to his feet and offers John a hand. 

He takes it.

\--

"I'll assume you two are fine with sharing a tent," Hosea says to Arthur and John and there's something _knowing_ about his tone.

John tenses next to him, face tilted down, eyes hidden by his hair. 

"'S fine," Arthur murmurs tiredly for the both of them, feeling like he was about to fall off his horse for hours, legs shaky under him now. 

But they're home, at least, this new home and all he wants is to pass out and wake up early tomorrow to explore.

\--

John seems nervous, though Arthur isn't sure how the younger man even has the energy to be nervous.

Arthur lays out his bedroll then strips down to his drawers, lowering himself down with a groan.

He reaches out, trying to stretch out sore and stiff muscles, listening to John shuffling around next to him. 

It's a small tent, temporary.

John puts his bedroll down a few inches from Arthur's. 

He could've put it further, only a little bit, but still. 

Arthur watches the younger man out the corner of his eye and waits until John's down to his undershirt and drawers, wrapping up in his own blanket and settling before he speaks.

"You alright?" Arthur murmurs, low and rough.

"... Don't laugh."

"What?"

"If I tell you… You can't laugh."

"Alright?"

"I don't like it here," John whispers. 

Arthur frowns at the younger man, takes a moment to process that.

"Why?"

"I know it's… Hidden, but bein' this deep in the woods-" John inhales shakily and rubs his forehead, "I just don't like it."

"We're fine, John," Arthur murmurs, reaching out and squeezing the younger man's shoulder. 

John tenses, then slowly relaxes.

Shifts down, so his cheek is cradled in Arthur's hand.

The older man blinks one eye open, fading in and out.

Turns towards John and gathers the younger man in his arms, pulls him close, tucking him into his chest. 

They don't hug, not often. 

After near-death experiences, maybe, briefly. 

Not seeing each other for a week or two, a slung around the shoulder half-hug.

But John doesn't know how to respond to being in Arthur's arms held, not restrained. 

He stares at the older man's chest for a while, as its rise and fall slows, Arthur falling asleep, cradling him.

John slowly presses his forehead to Arthur's collarbone, closes his eyes, and falls asleep as well.

\--

It's situational, of course, it's not normal or something that would happen outside of these circumstances. 

Arthur's legs tangled with his, the older man hard against his hip. 

It's just the stimulation, just the pressure of Arthur's thigh between his legs that's got him hard, that's it he _swears_.

He shifts minutely, clenching his jaw against the friction between them.

Arthur's hands are locked behind John, holding him in place. 

John closes his eyes, tries to fall asleep again, staying as still as possible. 

\--

He doesn't quite fall asleep, so he's aware when Arthur shifts, groans quietly. 

John opens his eyes, looks up at the older man, then feels Arthur's cock, rubbing against his hipbone, a barely-there rutting of the older man's hips. 

"Fuck," John whispers and presses his hands against Arthur's chest, "Arthur?"

"Mm?"

John startles, leaning back further.

"You're awake?" 

Arthur's brows furrow, eyes open and slowly focus on John.

Recognize.

"Oh," Arthur mumbles, "Sorry."

"... What?" John asks shakily, trying very hard not to reciprocate, grind against Arthur's thigh. 

"Was dreamin'," Arthur says through a yawn. 

Shifting and stretching slightly, but not letting go of John.

"Art…" John says weakly, "Can you let me go?"

Arthur studies him for a moment. 

Recalling, the last time they were in a situation like this, almost a year ago at this point. 

He glances down between them and John's cheeks flare with warmth.

"You want me to?" Arthur asks, lowly.

Curiously. 

John stutters, blinking widely at the older man and thoroughly struggling for a response through his shock.

Arthur watches him closely, moving one hand down to John's waist and grinding his cock against the younger's hip, thigh rubbing against John's cock.

John makes a shaky noise and ducks his head.

Arthur swallows, loudly, next to his ear. 

Nervously, and John breathes carefully, quietly. 

"I thought… When you were grindin' on me, thought you were tryin' to trick me into lettin' you up," Arthur says quietly, "I didn't realize… I'm sorry."

"'S fine," John whispers.

"Also sorry that I liked it," Arthur whispers, hesitantly, "The way you sounded, felt against me."

John feels Arthur's cock jerk against him and gasps then whines quietly, rocking his hips.

"Yeah… Shit, just like that," Arthur grunts and moves his other hand down to John's ass, fitting their hips closer. 

"Arthur," John begs shakily and squirms, grinding on the older man's leg.

"C'mon," Arthur mutters and rocks their hips together, "C'mon, darlin', wanna hear you."

"Don't want anyone else to hear," John whispers nervously. 

Arthur exhales shakily and nods, then tucks his face into John's neck, pressing his lips to the younger man's collarbone, then moving up, biting and sucking lightly.

Breathing heavy. 

"Next time we're alone," Arthur murmurs, "Wanna make you get loud."

"Fuck," John whimpers and his hips jerk against Arthur, fingertips digging into Arthur's chest, "Art, please."

Arthur reaches down between them and undoes both their drawers, wrapping a hand around their cocks and rocking against John.

John muffles a needy sound into Arthur's shoulder and his cock jumps, pre-come dripping down Arthur's knuckles. 

"You close?"

John nods jerkily, breathing shaky. 

Arthur starts to stroke them together, slowly, grip firm and controlled. 

John feels so out of control compared to the older man, hips twitching desperately, fucking into Arthur's hand, whining at the way their cocks are rubbing against each other. 

Arthur grunts quietly, squeezes and starts stroking faster. 

It's too much for John, who cries out softly and clings to the older man, cock spilling, come slicking Arthur's grip on them. 

Arthur makes a low noise, grinding into his grip, fucking his cock against John, who whimpers helplessly, as the older man squeezes their lengths together, stills, holding them steady as he comes, adds to the mess, drags his hand down and coats both of their cocks from head to base.

John listens to Arthur’s breathing slow down over the next few minutes. 

The older man’s hand moves up his back, to the nape of his neck. 

Arthur’s cheek presses to his temple, the older man holding him close. 

“Alright?” Arthur whispers. 

John nods slowly, moving one hand up to Arthur’s neck. 

“I didn’t think… You’d be-” John swallows, “Open, to this kinda thing.”

“Mm,” Arthur squeezes his neck and sighs quietly, “I wasn’t sure if you would’ve… After what happened, I wanted to give you some time, but that was a…”

Arthur grunts uncomfortably and pushes his face into John’s hair. 

“Felt guilty, since _that_ was when I fully realized… That I was- That I wanted you.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” John hesitates, then pulls back to look at Arthur, “I didn’t blame you… I was just embarrassed.”

“... Oh.”

John snorts softly and rubs his eyes tiredly. 

“We alright?” John asks quietly. 

Arthur’s hand shifts on their cocks and John inhales sharply. 

“Yeah,” Arthur huffs a small laugh, “Think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I’m back and i changed my username lmao with everything happening I’ve been struggling to focus on writing fic and also struggling with some vitamin deficiency bullshit which is making me sleep WAY TOO MUCH but now I’m on some high dose supplements so hopefully I’ll be more productive in updating fics goddamn 
> 
> ANYWAY  
> [morston discord](https://discord.gg/BFFx4Xy)  
> [my twitter](https://www.twitter.com/providentialone)


End file.
